


Rivia. Geralt Rivia

by UlsPi



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Getting Together, M/M, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28769229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/pseuds/UlsPi
Summary: Agent Geralt really can't stand his handler, agent Jaskier. He hates him so much! Can't stand his eyes and his smiles and his idiocy. He absolutely hates Jaskier. Definitely.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	Rivia. Geralt Rivia

**Author's Note:**

> This here is as silly as any James Bond movie and takes inspiration from Tommorow Never Dies. I own nothing. I just mean to have fun.

"You again," agent Geralt rolls his eyes as he's being handcuffed to agent Jaskier. 

"Geralt! I'm offended! I'm your favourite handler!" Jaskier is young, loud, cheery and blue-eyed. Geralt doesn't think he has a type, that's why he usually goes for middle-aged, silent, brooding and whatever-eyed to prove the point.

"You can't be my handler if you get caught before me!" Geralt argues. He himself is middle-aged, silent and brooding. And yellow-eyed. He's also very noticeable in the crowd, what with his long silver hair and significant height. Maybe he just wants to fuck himself, which is disturbing… But now is not the time to think about it. Actually it's never the time to think about it. Gods forbid he develops feelings or emotions or something like that.

"You know, Geralt, I've had this fantasy… you, me, handcuffs. Reality is so much better!" Jaskier says delightedly. He's an idiot and he makes Geralt feel things one shouldn't feel when one is about to be tortured by someone who has no idea about good BDSM etiquette. Speaking of…

"Shut up!" Mr Stregobor commands. He's a media magnate with a penchant for war-mongering and human trafficking. Apparently, he doubles as a torturer. 

"You know, dungeon master isn't in fact what you think it is." Jaskier is delighted. Geralt desperately wants to kill him in accordance with good BDSM etiquette. "My safe word is buttercup, by the way," Jaskier informs. 

Mr Stregobor sneers. "No words will save you now… I…"

"You're the man who loves the sound of his own voice, dear," Jaskier interrupts. He's not a very polite man, unless there's sex involved. Geralt doesn't know how he knows it and he wants to unknow it. 

"I will gag you!" Stregobor threatens. 

"Please," Geralt begs. 

"You'll miss on our screams, you shouldn't," Jaskier replies. Geralt feels something trickling down Jaskier's hand. They are chained back to back, two pairs of handcuffs - and a chance to hold Jaskier's hand. 

Stregobor huffs and starts searching through his instruments while giving a speech about life and war and destiny. 

"What is it, Jaskier?" Geralt hisses. 

"It's oil, dear heart. I always have some on me," Jaskier hisses back. Geralt can feel his hand slip from a handcuff. Now Geralt can't hold his hand… Although there's still another pair of handcuffs! Huzzah?

"And they didn't take it from you?" Geralt asks. 

"It's sewn into my sleeve. I like spontaneous sex. I like my lovers to think that I can produce oil like a hagfish… No, I don't like it when they think that, but they can't think much by the time I need oil. Now, the problem is, I don't have any more oil, so I'm afraid you'll have to knock the old shit out while still being chained to me. Call it marriage, if you want."

Geralt used to be married to their boss, Yennefer. It did feel a lot like being chained… Sometimes it was even pleasant. Shit, Ciri has this recital thing and Geralt is going to be so late… Yes, he has a daughter. Yes, he's shocked too. Ciri isn't and it must be a good sign. Right?

Geralt knocks Stregobor out, Jaskier grabs something that looks like a hammer but with nails in it…

"Can't even put a nail in without it being already attached. Lousy DIY. What would Ciri say?" Jaskier tosses the hammer through the window and then they are faced with the wind and about a hundred floors. "Now what, smartass?" Geralt grumbles.

"My ass is very smart, thank you, Geralt." Jaskier looks around the room. "No rope… he really is a shit!"

"And he'll be awake soon!"

"What, you didn't kill him? Geralt! What would Ciri say!" Jaskier tugs Geralt to the table full of other lousy instruments and swiftly inserts a ridiculously long needle under Stregobor's ear. In cold blood. Geralt is very aroused and confused. "There, taken care of. Now we only need to find something to… Oh, we can use the door!" 

"Why did you break the window then?"

"It's impossible to breathe here." Jaskier walks to the door and looks at Geralt with his murderous pretty puppy eyes. Geralt wishes he could resist, but he's still chained to Jaskier. 

"Could you maybe open the handcuffs first?"

"No time, Geralt! Break the fucking door!"

Geralt breaks the fucking door. He could have Jaskier against it, but there's a corpse nearby and it seems like a rude thing to do. 

Jaskier runs out, he's surprisingly fast and graceful for someone who ends up in trouble more often than not. He lives in trouble. 

They make it to the service stairs and run down. Jaskier doesn't stop talking. 

"This is an extraction by the way! Yennefer was worried you won't make it to Ciri's recital! Really, Geralt! I can't play her pretty gay father every time you take too long to make everything right and whatever it is you do…"

There's a bike waiting for them outside. Jaskier quickly places himself on Geralt's lap and pulls a couple of guns from the bags on either side of the bike. "Start the damn thing, Geralt, I have a feeling I'll have to shoot someone… pretty soon."

Geralt starts the bike. His hand is uncomfortable because it's locked in with Jaskier's and Jaskier is pointing at someone behind his back. "Fucking idiots!" Jaskier shoots. "Let the man make it to the recital!" He shoots again. He's sitting on Geralt's lap and he's so lithe and pretty and smells of chamomile. 

His lips are awfully close to Geralt's ear. 

"An extraction?"

"Oh, you do catch up eventually. Lovely!" 

"I would have made it!"

"Just drive, Geralt." Another shot. 

"I would have made it!"

"You didn't kill the man you were supposed to kill! I killed him! Ew, I killed a man. Now I have guilt…" Another shot, the sound of their pursuers' car crashing into something. It's always so much noise with Jaskier! 

"You don't."

"You're right, I don't. Die, you bastards!" 

"How did you get caught?"

"Oh, see, there was that young lady enjoying my wicked tongue in her nether regions, and then…"

"Thinking with your cock again." Geralt isn't jealous. He's just… something. 

"It does have a head after all," Jaskier replies easily. "Turn left, now!"

Geralt turns left, now. There's a car and Eskel playing on his phone inside it.

"Oh, I see you've made it," he says without looking at them. 

Jaskier is very confident in his ability to drag Geralt along with him. 

"Why are you two like that?" Eskel asks as he starts the car. 

"Eskel, love, do go on. I didn't have enough oil for two sets of handcuffs and we're on the clock here."

"I hate you," Eskel says with love. 

Geralt grunts. 

"I can be hated by many people, Geralt, don't be mean," Jaskier comforts. 

Eskel drops them off at the airport where a small private airplane is waiting. "Have fun! I'll take care of the rest. Did you kill him, Geralt?"

"Hmmmm. Jaskier did."

"Murderous pretty thing," Eskel coos. Geralt grunts. 

"Stop it, Geralt. You're a divorced parent and I can't wait for you forever to catch up." Jaskier smooches Eskel on the lips and runs towards the plane. 

"Wait forever?" Geralt looks back at Eskel as he's being pulled along.

Eskel snorts. 

"I thought you were with Lambert," Geralt continues. Jaskier is getting impatient and tugs harder and he's already flirting with the flight attendant… 

"I am! Jaskier just joined us a couple of times. He's very good with his tongue."

Eskel drives away before Geralt can kill him. He doesn't know why. It's irrational. He's a mean spy machine. He doesn't have feelings. He doesn't have feelings for soft pretty handlers. He does have feelings for his daughter but it's just an instinct that every human develops towards a child that was thrust into their care when said child's parents died on a mission. Right?

"My beautiful lady, could I please borrow your pin?" Jaskier asks seductively. The flight attendant blushes and hands him one. 

Jaskier makes quick work of the handcuffs. Geralt feels bereft. 

"Here you are." Jaskier flops into the armchair across from Geralt. "A drink?"

Geralt nods. 

Jaskier's beautiful lady brings them drinks and winks at Jaskier. "I'm on a mission," Jaskier says regretfully. 

"Aren't you always?" She shakes her head but she seems fond and she gives Geralt funny looks that Geralt doesn't find particularly funny. 

"So… we have a few hours. We could make out!" 

Jaskier always suggests it. Geralt always refuses because Jaskier isn't his type. 

"Don't want to make out with you," Geralt replies. And downs his vodka-martini. 

"Then you don't get to be jealous when someone else finds me more… alluring. I am alluring, though." Jaskier is drinking sherry. Typical! A sweet drink for a sweet thing.

"Is it… Always an extraction when you get in trouble?" Geralt asks. 

"Took you long enough. Yennefer isn't particularly good at risk management. She sends you on dangerous missions and… I don't know. Maybe it's your dynamic. Maybe she thinks you can make the world a better place. Someone has to take care of you, though." Jaskier says it all easily. 

"I don't need anyone! Don't need anyone to need me!"

"Well… you need to be a saviour, I knew it the moment I read your file. So… I get in trouble, you save me and the world or whatever. Genre-wise, we have to make out. But… I'm so much smarter than you." Jaskier smiles into his drink. Pretty, so pretty, like a flower or a butterfly or any other pretty thing. It's just that Jaskier isn't a thing. Now that Geralt actually thinks about it, it's been so many times that he finished his mission because Jaskier was in trouble. 

"Why did you think I'd want to rescue you?" Geralt asks, angry and sad. 

"You rescue everyone. You want to be a hero. You are a hero. And you never take credit." Jaskier is looking at Geralt as if he could see Geralt the way no one else could, including Geralt himself.

"That's the definition of secret service." Geralt discovers he has finished his drink and for some reason he doesn't want to call for the flight attendant. Jaskier rolls his eyes and makes Geralt another drink.

"Well… you don't need to hide it from me." 

"You'd rather I praised myself like you do?"

"No. To each their own. Your brooding has its charms. Quite a lot of charms, if I may say so… Not that I'd ask. You're a good man, Geralt. What Stregobor made of Blaviken…" Jaskier's glass cracks in those long fingers. Clever fingers. "I wish I could give him a worse death."

"He was right."

"He wasn't. You believe the people who hate you more than you believe those who love you."

"Are you my therapist now?"

"I'm in fact certified to be one. But no."

"Then shut up."

"So rude." Jaskier sighs and stands up again to refill his glass. Or replace it, seeing as it cracked in his hand.

"I'm… sorry."

"Then you're drunk," Jaskier retorts easily. 

"I think I… I'd like to make out."

"Oh, finally, darling, I thought you'd never ask. But not now. Not after two drinks." Jaskier sits back and looks at Geralt. His eyes, his beautiful cornflower eyes glimmer with fondness and mirth.

"So you're capable of keeping it in your pants."

"I am. I've been waiting for you, Geralt Rivia. I can wait for sometime more."

It does take Geralt's breath away. He's been an idiot. 

"Oh, and that lady I went down on, she works for us now."

"Stop it, Jaskier."

"Dear heart, you stop it. When you're sober." Jaskier pulls a book out of nowhere and starts reading. 

**Author's Note:**

> They don't leave Jaskier's flat for a month after the recital.


End file.
